A Good Day
by Yari
Summary: Johnny goes for a little morning stroll, and the people are incredibly nice. Yay!


A/N: Aargh, the horror! My first story on this place, and it sucks. Hmm, I know the writing quality isn't all that good, but it was an idea, and I liked it. At first, it was supposed to be a nice, happy story with no depression, but then it got all depressing at the end. Please, please, no flames! They hurt. But it's ok if you tell me the flaws in the story.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Johnny walked down the street, with his headphones nestled against his ears. He decided to go out in the early morning, to see if people were nicer now than they were at night. Already, people were leaving for work. What was it, seven? Eight? He didn't know, he hardly kept track of time anymore. He didn't need to, did he? After all, it's not like he had to meet anybody anywhere. Sometimes, he wish he had too...he wished he could be a normal person.  
He turned a corner, walking past a scruffy, stray dog. He was walking slowly, taking his time. He got to his a destination, a small coffee shop at the end of a nice little street. He peered at the sign that read 'Open' in large, white letters against a blue board. He wrapped his spidery fingers around the handle, and pulled it open. Through his Beethoven, he could hear the gentle tinkle of the bell on the door.  
He stood in the doorway, glancing around at the occupants of the coffee shop. The only people there was a man sipping some coffee, reading a newspaper. In a corner, was a polite looking old lady. At the counter, was a young, red-headed girl who could only be nineteen at tops. He stopped his music, and pulled the headphones off. He dropped them around his neck, and shuffled nervously over to the lady at the counter.  
The lady smiled widely, her teeth as white as snow. She said, in an utterly happy voice, "Hi! How may I help you?" The voice would have irritated Johnny immensely, except for the fact that he had been in a particularly good mood. He smiled slightly, then said to her, "Can I have a plain bagel and cream cheese?" The smile was still pasted on her face, and she replied. "Gladly! It'll be a few moments, if you can stand to wait." Johnny nodded, and heard the tinkling bell again.  
He looked over his shoulder, and saw small girl walk in. He turned again, and rested his hands on the counter. He heard a voice from behind him, then looked to see the girl beaming at him. "Nice shoes!" Johnny looked down at his shoes, then smiled shyly. "Thanks..." The girl turned her head slightly, frowning. "What's wrong?" Johnny blinked, then shrugged. "Nothing...I just can't figure out why people are being so...nice today." The girl's brown eyes widened. "Why shouldn't we be nice?"  
"Here's your bagel! That will be one dollar and twenty-three cents, please!" The woman at the counter had come back, and she set the bagel on the counter. It was sitting on a pretty napkin, white with flower designs. Johnny plunged his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a five dollar bill, a quarter, and a one dollar bill. He set the quarter in front of the girl, and then she reached for the five as if he was paying her with that. He stuffed the one into her hand, and dropped the five into the tip jar.  
The girl behind the counter blinked. He grabbed the bagel, and hastily walked over to a table before she could give him his two cents in change, or even say 'thanks' to him. The girl behind him ordered, and he slowly ate his bagel. He was sitting cross legged in his chair, and was watching the people enter and exit, with one thought floating through his head: Why shouldn't we be nice?  
He sighed heavily, and folded his hands. He propped his elbows onto the table, and rested his chin upon his hands. That old woman that he saw when he first came in was still sitting in her lonely corner. He wondered if she was dead...he squeezed his eyes shut, for the first time in all the time he's been around death...he was saddened by it.   
His eyes drooped, and he suddenly felt very tired. He didn't fight it, as he often did. Instead, he let the tiredness take him over. He closed his eyes, and was smiling slightly. All of a sudden, he felt a sharp pain in his forehead and heard a dull 'thud'. He opened his eyes wide, and he found himself sitting in a dimly lit room. He picked his head up off the table, and looked around. Where was he? Hadn't he just been in a coffee shop? Or...oh no. He had fallen asleep, and only dreamt that he had had a good day.  
He felt the tears press up against his lower eyelids, and pulled his legs up onto the chair. He hugged his legs against his chest, and he pressed his face against his knees. Tears were streaming out of his eyes, and he didn't even bother to fight them. Sleep was so cruel....you couldn't tell if you had dreamt something, or if it had really happened. And when something really nice was happening, it was only a dream. He sighed heavily. Even though only a dream person said it, one thought still haunted his mind: Why shouldn't we be nice? 


End file.
